Doxy Pox
by wrongturn
Summary: When Harry comes down with Doxy Pox, a TERRIBLE wizarding disease, he and Malfoy are quarentined - together - in the same room - on their own - (the horror!)
1. Default Chapter

DISCLAIMER: you know the drill 

Um, yes. Well, poor Harry get's Doxy Pox. Very bad. No known cure. STUPID HEALERS! ACK. What will happen when the two 'enemies' are locked in a room together? 

SLASH. Not in this chapter, though. Don't like it? Close your eyes. It's everywhere. one last warning: Harry and Hermione are going out. I don't know about you, but I've never been a fan of that ship (go harry/draco!) but its not working. Nothing to dwell on. 

*~*~* 

It was a cold September morning and Harry had just stormed off after an argument with Hermione. His girlfriend. All of the raised voices had given him a headache, and the drizzle of the rain was almost helping. 

Harry had been feeling light headed ever since the end of the summer holidays, and sometimes the world blurred in front of him. There were sleepless nights and once - he hated to remember it - but it felt like his bones were going to snap. 

The symptoms had gradually been getting worse. 

He could almost forget now. All the colours were blurred anyway, and the rain was pounding against his skull. 

And there was someone there. 

'Malfoy?' Harry asked unsurely. The Slytherin was just standing there. At the edge of the lake. Doing nothing. 

He whipped around so fast. And he drew his wand. 

'Oh,' said Malfoy distastefully. 'It's you.' 

There was a stab of anger inside Harry. Evidently Malfoy thought Harry was no threat, and he lowered his wand. 

'What,' said Harry through the rain, though he was still audible, 'are you doing?' 

'Considering drowning myself.' 

Malfoy's face was serious. 

'Your not ser-' but Harry broke off. No matter which was you spelt it, he never said Sirius's name. 

'In all ways, I am,' said Malfoy thoughtfully, surveying Harry with his cool grey eyes. 'Care for a joint suicide? 

'That's not something to joke about, Malfoy.' Harry looked at him reproachfully. He wasn't entirely sure Malfoy was joking. And from the look Malfoy shot back, he didn't know either. 

They let Harry's comment hang in the air with the only sound of rain sliding down their faces. 

'What are you doing?' There was a slight panicked note in Malfoy's voice. 

There was that feeling. Braking bones. Twisting. His fever shot up. 

Dizziness crept up on him again. 

'_Potter!'_

His knees were giving way. 

**'Stop it!' **

Harry staggered into the arms, and was caught by a very affronted looking Malfoy. 

* ~ * ~ * 

Harry woke slowly later when a burning liquid was forced down his throat. 

He sat up quickly, coughing and spluttering. He knocked the mug out of Malfoy's hands. It smashed on the floor. 

'That always happens.' 

Harry was still coughing. 'What did you do to me?!' 

'Well, first I cut you up, hung your insides out to dry and threw you a birthday party what the hell does it look like I did?!' 

'Learn to split up your sentences,' said Harry weakly. 

'I'll give you bloody sentences,' he muttered, and repaired the mug with a flick of his wand. 

Harry was lying on a bed with deep emerald green hangings, and a room with furniture either green, or made out of dark coloured wood. A large book case stood over the other side of the room, and a desk was covered with parchment. 

Malfoy set the repaired mug on the chest of draws, but instead of sitting back next to Harry, he opted for the chair. 

It seemed to be Malfoy's bedroom. 

'You're all _dry_.' 

Malfoy rolled his eyes. 

'Do you have to _whine?'_

'But _you're_ all dry and I'm _wet_.' 

'Potter,' said Malfoy with annoyance and a tone of disgust. 'Did you expect me _undress_ you while you were _sleeping?'_

'Well,' said Harry sheepishly. 'You brought me to your bedroom, I just though...' 

'Well you though WRONG!' he burst out. 'I guess yours is just a Gryffindor thing!' 

'Then why'd you bring me here?!' 

'You collapsed Potter,' he snarled venomously. He was on his feet. 'Did you prefer sitting in a _tree?_' 

'I could have been taken to the Hospital Wing!' 

'Too many stairs!' 

'My arse!' 

'You'd infect the other people, that's why! **SIT DOWN!**' 

Harry had been trying to get up while his knees buckled from under him. He threw himself back down with so much force he rolled of the other side. 

'Didn't want to be on the bed anyway.' 

Malfoy was howling hysterically from the other side. 

Harry pulled himself back on the bed and glared at him. 'Are you saying... I'm diseased?' 

'Yes. You finally grasp it. _Doxy Pox_. The Doxy Disease. Call it whatever. I don't care! You're diseased and your stuck with it!' 

Malfoy seemed to be on the point of crying, or cackling hysterically at Harry. 

_'Doxy Pox?'_

** 'YES!'**

He was greeted with a blank look. 

'Doxy pox, Potter,' said Malfoy impatiently. 'Do you know nothing?' 

'I won't, will I turn - into - a - a _Doxy_?' said Harry, still short of breath from falling over. 

'Yes...' said Malfoy evilly. 

Harry collapsed on the bed. 

'A _Doxy_? That's what I'm going to live my life as? No, not a farie, or even a _hippogriff_. But a **Doxy!'**

'Potter,' said Malfoy with exaggerated patience. 'You are the thickest person I have ever met - you want to be a _farie?'_

Harry ignored him. 

'How would someone like you explain it...?' Malfoy pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. 'Er... if you have _chicken pox_, do you turn into a chicken?' 

'No,' said Harry tentatively. 'You mean I'm not -' Harry leapt of the bed with joy and threw his arms around him. 'I've got to tell Hermione - and Ron - I've got to tell them have a disease! And then I'm hungry!' 

'Get off me!' Malfoy snarled in disgust. Harry dropped him and ran to the door. 'GET AWAY FROM IT POTTER!' 

Harry froze. 

He turned around slowly. 'Excuse me?' 

'GET AWAY FROM THE BLOODY DOOR! You _idiot! _Do you want to cause an **EPIDEMIC?!'**

'No,' said Harry sullenly. 'I didn't know.' 

'You don't know much,' he snapped. Malfoy strode over to a grand chest of draws and began ruffling through it. 'You've got a disease. You can't just go around **infecting** people.' 

'I'm infecting you.' 

'I've had it,' he said gruffly. 

'Yeah, and you only turned into a ferret,' Harry muttered. 

'What was that?' said Malfoy sharply. 

'What was what?' 

'What did you say?' 

Harry rolled his eyes. 'I _said _"What was what?".' 

'Shut it Potter.' 

'Sorry.' Harry wasn't sorry, and he wandered over to Malfoy and hovered as Malfoy pulled a game of Monopoly out. 'An epidemic?' 

'Like it or not, Potter,' said Malfoy grumpily. 'We're stuck in this room until you get better, so you better get used to it.' 

'You mean - you mean - no leaving this room - or **anything**?' 

Malfoy grimanced. 

'You better get out of those wet clothes, Potter,' he said grimly. 'It's going to be a **long** night.' 


	2. Faries

Low and behold fair people! Your questions shall be answered! Its seventh year but I probably should have mentioned that... Draco's head boy, and Hermione's head girl. Yeah, that's it. 

~*~* 

'I' m hungry,' Harry complained for the nth time already. He handed Draco seven monopoly sickles. 

'I know that,' Draco snapped. 'So am I. But unless you want _Malfoy's leg á la mode_, you're **stuck.'**

Harry stomach gave an indignant grumble. 'If you had take me to the _Hospital Wing_ like any normal person, Madame Pomfrey would be feeding me **right now**.' 

'Yes,' Malfoy drawled. 'Right after she was curled up on the ground screaming in agony.' 

'What?' 

'Oh _do_ pay attention, Potter. Do you think that I'm locked in _my own bedroom_ with you for my **health?' **he snicked at that. 'You'd have half the castle dead by morning.' 

Harry looked blank. 'Why?' 

Malfoy drew a 'Get out of Azkaban Free' card. 

'_Why?_ Because the Doxy disease festers on the pain inside you! That's why! It grows until its powerful enough to escape its vessel-' 

'You mean me?' 

'Yes I mean you! Then it attacks those around you, kills them sometimes. And if the world wasn't so damn unfair, that mudblood Granger might have been next.' 

Harry threw a hand full of knuts at Malfoy, to exhausted to defend his girlfriend and leap on him. 'You said you've had it.' 

Malfoy nodded and gingerly picked the knuts of his robes. 

'Does that mean you've _experienced pain?'_

'Huh,' Malfoy scoffed. 'I wish.' 

Harry threw the dice and waited for his counter - a silver owl - to move the seven and a half spaces forwards around the board. 

'What's that supposed to mean?' 

'It means, Potter, as many Malfoy's before me, we've been exposed to the disease only to over come it.' 

'But - you said! Isn't that more dangerous?' 

'Indeed it is, Potter. But if we are expected to join Voldemort's inner circle, there is always a risk of coming to close to a dementor for comfort. That's why visitors in Azkaban are so closely monitored. I was half hoping that moron Fudge would drop dead. It's worse for adults, you know.' 

'So what? I have it easy?' Harry had been experiencing sharp pains all through his stay. 

'You could put it like that.' 

'So,' Harry said conversationally. 'You expect to go to Azkaban?' 

Draco ripped up his 'Get Out of Azkaban Free' card up into two. 'You know, I don't really feel like playing any more.' 

The was a heavy feeling of guilt in Harry's stomach. Had he put his foot right in it? 

'_No_!' Harry whined. 'You said _I'd_ get to be the farie next time!' 

Draco smirked. 'Indeed I did.' 

*~*~* 

'Malfoy, I'm _tired_ already. Let's just say you won and let me sleep.' 

'But I _have_ won. And you only want to sleep because your losing. Anyway, I thought you wanted to be the farie?' 

'I did,' said Harry darkly. 'Before you broke her head off.' 

'It was her nose,' said Malfoy sharply. 'And it **fell** off.' 

'Sure Malfoy,' Harry sulked. 'I'm _sure_ if we could pry her out from under the book case, she'd say that too.' 

'I never liked fairies anyway,' he sniffed and put out his hand. 'You still owe me three knuts.' 

'But I'm out of money!' 

Draco smirked. 'I guess you should have though twice about landing on... **The Malfoy Manor** then.' 

'I would have bought the Malfoy Manner **myself**,' he muttered, 'if you hadn't threatened to brake the fairies arm off as well.' 

'Minor technicalities.' Draco waved a hand lightly. 'Shall we play again?' 

'No!' 

'Exploding snap?' 

'Malfoy, its bloody four o'clock in the morning, and I'm _exhausted._ Just let me sleep.' 

'Wizard chess?' 

'No!' 

'One potato, two potato...?' 

'I'm sleeping now.' Harry stood up and threw himself face down on the bed. His pyjamas matched the deep green of the covers and his whole body relaxed. 

'That wouldn't be wise, Potter.' Draco's tone was dark, unlike the light way he'd been speaking (when he'd been winning, anyway.) 

Harry lifted his head and his ears pricked up, as if listening for Malfoy's voice again to make sure he'd heard properly. 

'Excuse me?' 

'I wouldn't sleep, if I were you.' 

'Stop it, Malfoy!' Harry snapped angrily. 'Stop talking as if I'm going to die! I'm hungry, I'm exhausted, and I have some life threatening disease. I don't need you acting like that!' 

'It's not life threatening for God's sake! Not to _you_ anyway. Not to me. Not to the mudblood either. Weasley's the one I'd be worrying about.' 

Draco chuckled to himself and Harry heard him clearing the game away. What did he mean? 

'Explain yourself, Malfoy.' 

'Oh, it doesn't matter what _I_ say. Of course, _I'm_ just the **Slytherin** who could have left you in a tree to **die** and infect the whole country and spent all night playing _Wizarding Monopoly_ and is still owed _three knut's_.' Malfoy took a deep breath. 

'How is _Ron_ in danger? Tell me!' Harry was off the bed now. He kneeled in front of Malfoy so both their knees were touching. 

'Because however much of blood traitor he is,' Malfoy snarled maliciously, 'he's still pure blooded.' 

'But I'm not pure blooded!' Harry shouted. 'And I still have it!' 

'I know,' he laughed. 'Rather unfortunate, wouldn't you say?' 

'Bloody cursed more like it!' Another sharp pain his Harry in the side of his ribs. 'So anyone could have it?' 

'Any one you've come into _contact_ with, Potter. Unfortunately you do not have very good aim when fainting.' Malfoy shuddered. 'Perhaps I _should_ have jumped in that lake.' 

'So - anyone - in Gryffindor - in my class - could have it?' 

'I suppose they could. Lets just hope you were quarantined early enough.' 

Harry looked visibly sick. 'So - Neville - is the worst - with Ron - he could have it?' 

Malfoy looked despondent. 'Hell. If he goes around fainting and spitting up blood, they're not going to realise that's not normal Longbottom behaviour. There'll be an epidemic before you know it!' 

'We have to tell someone!' Harry jumped up and sped to the door. 

'GET THE BLOODY HELL AWAY FROM THE DOOR! Potter, how many times have I told you! You _do not_ leave this room for **anything** - do you **hear** me? Nothing!' 

'But...' Harry argued breathlessly. 

'Look on the bright side,' Malfoy drawled. 'At least this way we can blame it all on Longbottom - though...' 

'Though what?' 

Malfoy pushed the Monopoly box to the side and Harry sat back down infront of him. 

'Granger won't get it, she's a mudblood. Longbottom has probably _had_ it - what with his loony parents - Thomas is a mudblood - well he's not pure, that certain. Finnegan's a half-blood. It looks likes Weasley's going to be the start of the end of Wizard kind.' 

'Malfoy,' Harry wheedled tentatively. Malfoy looked up. 'Why do _care_ though. Why not just kill us all? Kill me?' 

'Potter!' Malfoy hissed. 'You are _not_ going to **die**! Perhaps turn insane from the agony - but never die! The bacteria bread in you. It infects the other people - who have a _higher_ chance of death. **Pure bloods** Potter! Not mudbloods! Why would I kill the **purebloods?!** They're the one's who'll die.' 

Harry leaned further forward and played with the stray thread from the hems of Malfoy's trousers. 'Am I infecting you?' he whispered. 

Draco nodded after a while. 

'Can I hurt you?' 

Draco's voice was less certain. 'I don't think so.' 

'You don't **think** so? You don't THINK! Bloody hell Malfoy! What am I going to do if _you_ start writhing on the floor?' 

Malfoy shrugged. 'Eat my arm?' 

Harry turned away from him disgusted. 

There was silence between them, and Malfoy continued packing the game away. But slower than before until Harry finally decided to speak. 

'Will we get food tomorrow?' he asked meekly. 

'It depends,' he answered after a while. He'd stopped ordering the fake money ages ago. 

'On what?' 

'Whether the house-elves decide to clean my room or not. Then we'll tell them to bring us some.' 

'Why wouldn't they?' 

Draco let a smile play about his lips. He was looking downwards, watching the Gryffindor play with the stray cotten of his trousers, so Harry couldn't see it. 'I think Dobby's spread the word - oh, they don't **say** anything of course. Their _far _to respectful for that. So I stopped eating the food they brought me. And they ironed their ears.' 

Harry frowned with misery. 'So they probably won't bring food, now?' 

'For the _Great Harry Potter_, I think they'd do just about anything.' 

'Don't call me, that. It's not funny.' 

'I do apologise.' 

Harry decided to ignore him and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. 'I suppose it's a good, thing though,' he called, his voiced slightly raised as he pushed the door to. 'Would it infect them?' 

'Hell no,' came Draco's reply. 'Did you think _Lucius_ took care of me when I was writhing in agony while I slept?' 

'Um, no... but... so... then we might not starve to death after all?' 

'I guess not.' 

'You only have one tooth brush.' 

'I'm sorry Potter, I didn't expect to be **quarantined** or I would have stopped by your dorm and picked up your little **necessities**.' 

'You don't have to sound so patronising,' Harry gurgled through a mouth full of toothpaste. 

'You not using my brush - **are you?'**

'Uh... not really?' 

'Potter!' 

'Well, not your _hair brush_.' 

Malfoy jumped up from the chair and it fell backwards. 

'Here I go, saving your, and possibly the whole of Hogwart's lives', and what do you do? Take my toothbrush! The only little bit of _privacy_ I have left.' 

He stormed into the bathroom. 

'What did you expect me to do?' 

'Use your fingers! Use the toilet brush for God's sake. Put toothpaste of some tissue! I don't care.' 

Harry had finished with the brush by now and was gurgling the water. He held it out. 'Do you want to use it now?' 

'Do I **look** like I want to use it now?' he snarled, pushing Harry's hand away and storming back into the other adjoining room, and was back in his chair by the time Harry resurfaced freshly showered. 

Malfoy shot him withering looks. 'Couldn't find my hairbrush _either_, I see.' 

Harry laid down on the bed, not bothering to pull the covers around him. 

'Your not thinking of _sleeping_?' 

'Malfoy,' Harry winged. 'Not everyone can go without sleep.' 

'They'd do better if they could. It's easier to get Doxy Pox when you sleep.' 

'Is it?' Harry murmured. 

'Yeah...' Malfoy too, was looking wary. 'Well there's no point in me staying up if your going to sleep.' 

'Won't you... won't...' Harry yawned. 'Be in... pain... too, or something.' 

'No,' said Malfoy blissfully, snuggling in his chair. 'That's only you.' 

'What?!' 

*~*~* 

A/N I guess if you managed to sit through all of that, your reading this. See, now the **whole world** knows how bad and evil 'Doxy Pox' is! woo! Erm... yes. So, you can review if you want. ::hint hint:: hah 


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